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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24801790">Mission List</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABrighterDarkness/pseuds/ABrighterDarkness'>ABrighterDarkness</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bucky Barnes Bingo [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awesome Peggy Carter, BAMF Peggy Carter, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, M/M, Protective Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:53:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,399</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24801790</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABrighterDarkness/pseuds/ABrighterDarkness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Bucky bit back a groan when he realized how suddenly full his mission roster had gotten in a matter of hours.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <b>Written For Bucky Barnes Bingo: B4 - Secret Agent, Assassin or Hitman</b></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes &amp; Peggy Carter, James "Bucky" Barnes &amp; Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers (mentioned)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bucky Barnes Bingo [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1687492</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020, Tony Stark Bingo Mark IV</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So this fic was inspired by this <a href="https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/63brm9/wp_you_are_an_assassin_a_little_girl_has_just/">writing prompt</a> in combination with my BBB card.  I <i>do</i> have every intention of working my way back and either turning this into a multi-chapter or possibly a series but it might take me some time to get to it.  I do have a couple longer term projects in the works that I'm hoping to finish up within the next few weeks before that happens.</p><p>Don't be surprised if you see this prompt pop up from me again because I've already got the ideas churning for a Natasha-oriented fic based on the same prompt.  It might take me a while to work my way back to it :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The fall from the train should have been the final moments for James Buchanan Barnes.  It should have been over then. He had certainly thought that it was.  More often than not, he wished that it had been. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew that HYDRA had never anticipated that he would break through the years, </span>
  <em>
    <span>decades, </span>
  </em>
  <span>worth of brainwashing, torture and conditioning.  That he would somehow regain control of his mind and his memory.  At that particular time, he had never thought he would either.  Or rather, he didn’t know or remember enough to know that there was anything to break through or regain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When it happened though, it was a fairly average, routine mission.  His handlers had brought him out of his cold sleep and moved him to the chair the moment he was stabilized enough that they wouldn’t have to wait until the serum fixed the damage caused by wiping him too soon.  After the successful wipe and confirmation that he was in compliance, he had been outfitted with the gear and weaponry created to his specifications presented with the necessary details of his mission.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite having no memory of prior missions, he was nearly entirely certain that she wasn’t the first woman he had been sent after with the firm instructions to eliminate by any means necessary.  She was, however, the first that made something in the far recesses of his mind bulk at the instruction and caused his head to begin to ache.  He hadn’t understood the reaction but had the good sense to not allow the hesitation show by way or words or actions.  He hadn’t been given a name or a reason why they wanted her gone but, then again, those were details that were never his to be had. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had firmly pushed that part aside for the moment.  It wouldn’t do for him to dwell and raise the suspicions of his Handlers.  They sent him out with far less oversight than a more challenging operation might have required.   It had taken a week for him to locate the woman and several more for him to establish a routine in her movements that would allow him prime opportunity to follow his instructions to eliminate her in such a way that it wouldn’t be known until after he was well under the cold sleep. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the lingering sense of familiarity with the target, he hadn’t hesitated in taking the shot when one became available. Considering the solo nature of the operation, it was also his responsibility to confirm the kill. He hadn’t expected the target to have dodged what should have been a clean shot.  He certainly hadn’t expected her to be lying in wait for him to enter the home. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though, for whatever reason, his presence in particular seemed to startle the woman as much as her very much living presence startled him.  Her surprise didn’t seem to dull her reaction times a single bit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sighed, “I apologize in advance Sergeant Barnes.” And then his head ached something fierce, perhaps on an equal level as the chair.  His vision blurred as he zeroed in on the solid object gripped firmly in her hands.  It was...was that a </span>
  <em>
    <span>baseball bat?</span>
  </em>
  <span> It struck him odd that she would choose such a thing when he could see the telltale outlines of a couple different hidden weapons holsters on her person.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t, couldn’t, know if it had been her intention but his mind blurred as strongly as his vision and he stumbled.  The small hands of the woman he had been sent to kill steadied him and nudged him into a chair. “Cognitive reboots always are a little tricky,” she lamented though he wasn’t entirely certain what that was supposed to mean, not when his mind was buzzing as loudly as it was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without thought, his left hand snapped up defensively, fingers curling around the column of her throat and squeezed.  Not enough to kill but more than enough to restrain and get his point across.  He rose from the chair she had pushed him into and dropped her struggling form into it. His orders echoed in his whirling mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He ignored them.  And her too, for that matter, as he swept from the home as quickly as he was capable in his compromised state.  Despite his fracturing mind, it took virtually no effort to seek out a safe, hidden place far from where his last assignment had taken him and to disappear.  The first days in the relative safety of the rickety abandoned cabin--something in his mind said that he was somewhere in New York but he had no understanding on how he knew that--were spent curled in on himself, jaw clenched tight and eyes closed as firmly as he could manage.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later, he never would fully be able to recall those first days. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had taken more than a month of hiding to even begin to gather up the scraps of who he used to be and for the knockoff super serum in his veins to purge the majority of the damage and the drugs that HYDRA had inflicted upon him, physically and mentally.  Only when he began to feel relatively human once again did he allow himself to tentatively leave his self-imposed isolation to figure out what had become of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The world he reentered was so very different from the one that echoed through his still-fractured memories.  He had known without having to look that he had been under HYDRA’s control for far longer than he had anticipated.  The date on the newspaper, </span>
  <em>
    <span>17 June 1978,</span>
  </em>
  <span> still managed to draw him to a halt in the middle of heavy midday foot traffic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nearly forty years.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He honestly didn’t know where that fell into his expectations of time passed.  Fear hit there and then, in the light of day.  Exposed for anyone who bothered to look to see. He retreated to his solitude for a few days after that.  Then, when he chose to break it the next time it was with sheer fury and determination. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a heavy sense of satisfaction at utilizing his training against the ones that had forced it upon him.  To tear them apart from the inside out and leave whatever remnants scattering in the wind for him to hunt down and eliminate at a later date.  And he </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> get to them in time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peggy Carter had found him sometime during the first year of his self-assigned mission. He had winced--visibly, if her responding expression was anything to go by--when he was suddenly able to put a name to the face to the woman that he had been sent to kill.  She had studied him for a long moment before handing him a file folder.  He couldn’t really say that they </span>
  <em>
    <span>talked,</span>
  </em>
  <span> at least not about anything of personal nature.  They didn’t discuss Steve or the rest of his former team.  They barely touched on SHIELD, only enough for Peggy to assure him that whatever resources he needed to complete his mission were at his disposal, he only needed to ask. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They hadn’t exactly been close during the war, though they </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> eventually found common ground in caring for Steve. But now, with the world having passed him by and a self-assigned near-suicidal mission to take down HYDRA, Peggy Carter might very well be the first and last friend he had in the world.  Friend. Ally.  Somewhere in the realm of one of those, though he still wasn’t quite trusting of his own mind to fully decide which category she fit in. Regardless of potential title used, she was at least a very valuable resource for information that he required to root out every piece of Hydra.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, despite her assistance and occasional company, the majority of his time and travels were spent on his own.  That suited him just fine, for the most part.  Less chances to rely on the wrong person or be distracted by another’s presence. There were times, though, when he would rely on his ability to hide in plain sight. Tuck himself into a local diner during their busy hours or a bar during the same.  Times and places where he could be just another nobody blending into the crowd.  And yet, manage to be a part of the crowd, to just be </span>
  <em>
    <span>human,</span>
  </em>
  <span> if only for a few hours.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was one of those times at an all night diner that was packed for reasons unknown to him that Bucky--he had only just begun to reclaim the name for himself, even more so than his actual given name--was seated in the far back corner with a good line of sight to every entrance.   He had ordered just enough food to sustain him without drawing undue attention and had just settled in to eat when the chair across from him was suddenly occupied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At first, it was instinct, tensing for potential assault and rapidly forming a plan that would get the fight away from the crowded restaurant.  With his mind spinning, it took a moment for his guest’s appearance to fully register, but when it did, Bucky could only blink in confused surprise.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy sitting across from him, studying him with curious but too-old eyes, was fairly small.  He likely hadn’t even reached puberty if Bucky had to guess.  Boney knees and elbows noticeable despite the long sleeve shirt and jeans--both pieces of clothing were noticeably well made and well cared for.  Bucky stared for a moment and then frowned, glancing quickly through the diner’s occupants in search of the boy’s parents but finding none that resembled him in the slightest. “You alright, kid?” he asked finally, awkwardly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am now,” the boy said with a tired smile.  The expression caused Bucky’s eyes to narrow slightly.  Such a weary, heavy look didn’t belong on a face that young.  He’d thought the same when Steve wore something similar, back when they were boys and illness weighed heavily on him.  The boy shifted uncomfortably under Bucky’s scrutiny, eyeing him for a moment before leaning forward and snatching a piece of bacon from Bucky’s plate. “My dad’s been talking about you, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your dad?” Bucky repeated, absently nudging his plate closer to the center of the small table.  This boy’s dad knew of him?  That was an extremely small list of names.  He studied the boy more intently at that.  The dark, unruly curls and dark eyes.  The somewhat sharp facial structure that was still softened by the boy’s young age. The thing that brought realization, however, was the distantly familiar way that he held himself.  It was a projected haughtiness, not something the boy seemed to feel but was determined to fake. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Howard?” Bucky asked after a long moment. “You’re Stark’s boy?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy tried to hide his wince and might have been successful with anyone less observant than Bucky Barnes.  He shrugged almost nonchalantly and reached again for Bucky’s plate--a potato this time--and then nodded. “Yeah,” he said, voice shaking ever so slightly even through his determination to hold it firm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something about it all--the resigned words, the stubborn, forced expression on too young of a face--niggled at his mind, dragging memories of days long past back to the forefront.  In his mind it wasn’t the Stark boy sitting in front of him, it was another too-small boy with all bones and sharp angles.  Blond instead dark curls, blue eyes instead of the brown.  The stubborn, defiant tilt of the jaw was all the same though. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anthony, right?” Bucky said carefully, recalling the small tidbits of information that Peggy had given him over the past months.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just Tony,” he said quickly. “It’s only Anthony when I’m in trouble or when he’s angry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that often?” Bucky asked, vaguely remembering the force of nature that Howard Stark had been in his memories.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony didn’t answer for a long time, focusing instead on swiping more and more bites from Bucky’s plate that had slowly worked its way across the table until it was no longer in the center and right in front of Tony instead. Finally, the boy--</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tony--</span>
  </em>
  <span>shoved the plate back across the table and sunk back into the chair with a huff.  When he finally looked up and met Bucky’s eye, Bucky could read the ongoing determination alongside a hint of fear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony fidgeted for a moment and stole a quick, nervous glance around the diner.  He looked back and took a deep breath that, in any other scenario might seem humorous from one so small but just filled Bucky with a sense of trepidation. He already knew that he was unlikely to find himself pleased with whatever Tony was about to say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He still didn’t speak, not right away anyway, instead, small hands fiddled with the cuffs of his sleeves before shoving them as high up his arms as they were capable of going.  Bucky felt a sharp spike of fury at the sight of dark, dense bruising encircling small forearms in the very obvious shape of a grown man’s hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My mom gets it worse than I do, mostly,” Tony said, quietly but firmly. “And it’s usually only when he’s been drinking. But--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But he’s always drinking, isn’t he?” Bucky finished the sentence for him, not needing Tony’s wary nod to know that he was right.  It’s how those types worked after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you--can you,” Tony paused and cleared his throat. “Can you make it stop?”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky sat frozen for a brief moment, staring at the bruised arms laid out in front of him. When Tony’s question fully registered, he did his best to clear his expression of both concern and surprise before he met the boy’s attentive gaze again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you asking me here, Tony,” Bucky asked as carefully as he could.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know who you are.  Who you were,” Tony said, finally his tone sounding closer to his age with its earnestness. “I-I-I can handle it, really, I can.  But he’s hurting her too. And I--when I try to help, to stop it.  I just make everything worse. I-I can pay.  I swear that I can.  Not-Not as much as Howard could, I know but--” he winced sharply and fell silent, eyeing Bucky in a way that was both fearful and hopeful at the same time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time in a long time, Bucky’s mind went utterly blank for a long second.  Was this boy, all of ten maybe, really asking for Bucky to kill his father?  Then his mind caught up to what Tony was saying, the specific words said and the urgency used.  There was a brief moment when he wanted to outright refuse on principle.  Surely Tony didn’t, </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t,</span>
  </em>
  <span> truly understand what it was he was asking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then his memories overlapped again.  A small, pale boy superimposed over the one actually seated in front of him. The worn, weary smile that was always forced at first until Bucky managed to say something just silly enough to draw a genuine one.  Bucky and his mother patching the boy and his mother up far too many times and wishing he was big enough, grown enough to do something to stop it from happening to begin with.  From doing the best he could at his own perceived failure as they grew older and pulling Steve out of fights, finishing them more often than not.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t been able to do anything to stop Joe Rogers from taking his drunken anger out on Sarah and Steve.  The alcohol had taken care of it long before Bucky had even been in a position to try.  But now little Tony Stark was sitting in front of him now, asking for his help, an odd parallel between Bucky’s past and his present.  So long he had been used in the worst of ways and had had no ability to choose or do the </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve wouldn’t have hesitated, if he were sitting where Bucky was now.  Whether he was his old sickly miniaturized self or the superserumed man he became.  It wouldn’t have mattered if Howard had once been a friend of sorts.  The bruising on Tony’s arms would have been more than enough to send Steve Rogers into a rage that nothing short of an explosion would have quelled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That thought was enough to settle the turmoil in Bucky’s mind.  He didn’t feel quite comfortable telling such a young boy in blatant terms that he agreed to the request.  He still wasn’t entirely certain that Tony knew exactly what it was he was asking for.  There wasn’t much indication that he had much reason to conceptualize death even if he did know more about the less pleasant sides of people than he ought to for his age. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or perhaps he did understand.  Tony had been cognizant enough to seek Bucky out, with at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> understanding of who he was and the types of things he had done and had been doing. Regardless, Bucky eyed Tony for a moment longer before reaching across the table and gently tugging his sleeves back down, noticing the easing of tension around the boy’s eyes as soon as the bruising was covered once more.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll take care of it,” Bucky said quietly.  He sat back into his own chair and nudged the spare napkin with utensils set neatly on top in his direction. “Go on and finish up.  Do you have somewhere safe to go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony hesitated a moment before snatching up the fork and digging into the food rather than picking bite by bite.  He shrugged, “He’s probably locked up in his study or passed out by now.  I made sure that he didn’t even notice that I was gone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then we’ll need to make sure that he doesn’t notice that you’re returning either,” Bucky pointed out.  Tony just shrugged as though he didn’t care one way or another but Bucky couldn’t find the same nonchalance in himself. He tilted his head in thought and frowned knowing that he was missing information that was likely critical.  Stark was Peggy’s co-founder, after all, but the man had always had his fingers in as many pies as he could possibly manage at any given time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I see it?” Tony asked suddenly and Bucky’s eyes snapped back to meet the boy’s.  Tony wasn’t meeting his stare though, those too-smart brown eyes were locked on Bucky’s covered left arm, glinting in fascination.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You want to see my arm?” Bucky asked, leaning heavily on his former training to avoid shifting uncomfortably in his seat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, yeah,” Tony said with an eye roll. “I know I’m small but I’m probably twice as smart as the idiots that made it for you.  I mean, we’re basically talking about robotics.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Somehow, I believe that,” Bucky admitted with a small smile. “C’mon, kid.  Let’s get you home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not a no,” Tony said with a cheeky grin that was much more suited for his face than the heavier expressions it bore earlier on. “Wait--what do I call you? Cyborg is probably only funny to me, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Been called worse,” Bucky shrugged, pushing up from his seat and running a quick scan through the restaurant that was considerably less busy than it had been when he had first sat down.  He dropped the necessary amount of bills on the table to cover the meal that Tony had mostly eaten but Bucky couldn’t find it in himself to truly be bothered by the fact. Tony scrambled after him as he made for the exit, keeping his pace steady enough that the boy wouldn’t struggle too much to keep up with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So can I?” Tony pressed once they were back out on the side walk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky watched him for a moment as they walked.  Eventually, he was gonna have to get a handle on this odd indulgent soft-spot that the kid seemed to be capable of drawing out.  One that Bucky only recalled feeling a lifetime ago occasionally around his sisters, decades ago.  And, of course, Steve.  But that had been an entirely different thing as well.  He sighed as silently as he could manage and shrugged out of the heavy leather jacket--reenforced and more pockets than any one jacket probably ought to have--and dropped it over the boy’s thin shoulders.  He couldn’t help the snort of amusement when the jacket that had been created to fit him perfectly landed below Tony’s knees. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t remove the glove that still covered his left hand but otherwise the metal plates that made up his left arm were exposed to the night air, reflecting the street lights around them.  Tony’s eyes widened, even as he shoved his arms into the jacket’s sleeves and pushed them up until his hands were free and then tugged the jacket more snuggly around him.  As soon as they were free of the heavy sleeves, small hands latched onto Bucky’s metal arm, touching and poking and prodding.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thankfully, Bucky was in the habit of always being aware of his surroundings because it was obvious that Tony’s attention was no longer available to anything but Bucky’s arm.  The boy continued chattering away though Bucky was only able to keep an ear to about half of it considering he was apparently solely responsible for ensuring that Tony didn’t end up tripping face first into the concrete.  At least if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> fall, he was enveloped enough by Bucky’s jacket that any damage ought to be minimal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m gonna make a better one,” Tony said finally.  Clear, decisive, and determined. “I mean you can’t possibly have much sensation from this one. The glove gives that away, Cy. I don’t have the supplies to do it right now though.  Howard keeps a close eye on his stuff now, I can only get away with taking small pieces or scraps.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought he wanted you to work on that sort of stuff,” Bucky frowned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He does,” Tony shrugged. “But it’s what he wants and when he wants it.  Not what’s in my head to work on, you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I always thought your science stuff was like art in that?” Bucky said curiously.  “Steve always got huffy about being assigned specific tasks at specific times.  He’d do it but it was never as good as if he was able to take his own routes and processes.  I didn’t really get it then either but it wasn’t really my field to judge, I guess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony scoffed bitterly, “It </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>like that.  Your </span>
  <em>
    <span>Steve</span>
  </em>
  <span> is probably the only one Howard would have listened to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doubtful,” Bucky smirked. “But then again, Stevie never particularly cared if any one listened or not.  He did things his own way anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re still looking for him,” Tony admitted a moment later, a miserable note back in his voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For Steve?” Bucky clarified, brows high in surprise and chest aching.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Tony nodded. “Mom and I always know when it’s been another unsuccessful search.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Howard better hope that he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> the one that finds him,” Bucky muttered though from the curious, wide-eyed glance Tony shot up at him it wasn’t uttered quietly enough to not be heard.  “Lotsa folks had a tendency to forget that Steve was a smart kid before your old man turned him into a powerhouse.  Even if I were still a shell, Steve would be quick to pick up on the types of things Howard’s been doing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’d do the same thing as everyone else,” Tony rolled his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s everyone else do?” Bucky frowned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony eyed him for a moment then gave a sad smile, “Money talks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not to me.  Not to Steve,” Bucky assured him. “Maybe especially not to Steve Rogers.”  Bucky paused, brow furrowed in thought. “I think maybe I need to see those maps they’re using.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You want to find him too,” Tony stated flatly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Course I do,” Bucky said evenly, knowing that Tony was likely the sort that would appreciate the level honesty and probably got little of it at home. “Probably for different reasons than Howard or SHIELD though.  I know things that they don’t and as far as I’m concerned they’re never gonna know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll still make it stop?” Tony asked hesitantly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll take care of Howard,” Bucky said darkly. It was only then that he realized that Tony had broken his focus on the metal arm at some point during their conversation but still hadn’t let go.  His hands still clung to the appendage, even as they walked and talked.  Bucky absently wondered if it was the mechanical nature of the arm, the allowance to touch, or a combination of the two that caused the boy to cling the way that he did.  Perhaps honesty was just one thing that Tony got far too little of at home.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What sort of things?” Tony said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What sort of what things?” Bucky frowned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You said that you knew things that Howard and SHIELD don’t know,” Tony pressed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Somethings are better left as a surprise, kid,” Bucky answered, grinning when Tony scowled up at him.  It would be better left in the relative safety of Bucky’s mind that there was more to the serum than anyone had anticipated.  Up to and including the ability to not only survive should-be lethal injuries but also the capability to withstand long term deep freezing in a way that baseline humans weren’t meant to.  That it was very likely that Howard would be in for one hell of a surprise if he did manage to find Steve’s crash site.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately for Howard, Bucky had zero intentions of allowing Steve to reawaken in Stark or SHIELD’s custody.  He glanced downward to his left at the small boy walking beside him, unusually trusting for a kid who had no real reason to trust anyone.  Steve would never let Bucky hear the end of it if he allowed himself to leave Tony unprotected in his urgency to bring Steve home.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Truthfully, Bucky wouldn’t let himself hear the end of it either. Though he suspected that Tony wasn’t really expecting anything less despite tentatively hoping for more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky bit back a groan when he realized how suddenly full his mission roster had gotten in a matter of hours.  He still needed to finish his hunt on HYDRA.   Neither Bucky nor anyone else would be remotely safe until they were well and truly gone.  Added onto that was straightening out Howard Stark with whatever methods made the lesson stick, finding and bringing Steve home, and--the oddest one of it all as far as Bucky was concerned--keep an eye out on young Tony Stark. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It was about damn time he started making good on his promises and checking that list off.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tony Stark Bingo</p>
<p>Name of Piece: Mission List CH2<br/>Card Number: 4074<br/>Name of Participant: ABrighterDarkness<br/>Square Number: R2 - AU: Canon Divergence<br/>Rating: T<br/>Pairing: Steve/Bucky, Bucky &amp; Peggy, Tony &amp; Bucky,<br/>Warnings:<br/>Summary:<br/>It was about damn time he started making good on his promises and checking that list off.<br/>Link:</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It had been several years since Bucky had last sat in this particular chair, in this particular home.  Though, the last time he hadn’t stayed in it very long and the chair’s owner had been lying in wait for him rather than the other way around.  Any other time, Bucky might have had some reluctance, felt some sense of hesitation at breaking into a woman’s home.  This time, however, he felt more than a little justified.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His mother would have had his hide if she were still around, regardless of his reasoning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shoved the straying thought to the back of his mind when he heard the tell-tale sound of heeled shoes clicking against the concrete just outside the front door and the jingling of keys. Bucky remained in the chair, his body automatically tensing in preparation for the upcoming confrontation. It was just a few moments later when the tension he felt changed at the sudden sensation of someone standing behind him. He didn’t even have to look to know without a doubt that there was a weapon of some sort aimed squarely at the back of his head and a confidence that the shot wouldn’t miss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was odd that, despite the enhancements to his senses, Bucky hadn’t heard the door open, nor had he heard any sign of movement.  He hadn’t heard or sensed anything until just then.  He wasn’t sure if he was getting that rusty or if she was just that good.  That was a precision skill that he would have expected from one of the Widow girls.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“James Barnes, you either have a death wish or you are just that incredibly stupid,” Peggy said crisply from behind him. “If it’s the former, you should know that I am tempted to fulfill it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was stupid, he knew, but he couldn’t quite help the slight grin at the chastisement. “No, ma’am,” he said evenly. “Just here to talk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you were just here to talk you would be arriving properly and not breaking into my home,” she retorted.  “You’re damned lucky I recognized that mess of hair as belonging to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky heard the familiar sound of a weapon being holstered and Peggy’s irritated huff.  He slowly stood from the chair and turned to face her.  He tilted his head to the side.  “What gave me away?” he asked curiously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For being an old ghost story, you were frighteningly careless,” she said, simply without bothering to expand or offer more details. “Out with it, what was so important that you forgot not only your decades of training but also your manners?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The prompting drew Bucky back from the amusement that had begun to grow and brought him back down to the seriousness that the situation deserved.  “Howard Stark,” he said flatly, allowing his anger at the man to bleed into his voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong house,” she responded curtly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The two of you are close,” Bucky stated evenly, watching her body language as intently as she was eyeing his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Howard is a friend, yes,” Peggy confirmed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s what I heard,” Bucky nodded. He considered her for a moment and allowed his body language to shift into something more casual, friendly even. “You might be interested to know that I met his boy, recently.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tony?” Peggy asked, eyebrows shooting high in surprise. “You’ve barely seen Howard since you returned to us. How in the world did you go about meeting my godson and why don’t I know about this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because Howard doesn’t know about it,” Bucky answered promptly. “Or he doesn’t yet.  But believe me, he will.  All things considered, I thought I might give you the benefit of the doubt before paying him a visit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think I like the way that sounds,” she said speculatively, abruptly breaking their stand off to settle her belongings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t imagine you do,” Bucky shrugged. “So you tell me what I’m supposed to believe, Pegs. You’re a smart woman, observant and aware enough to catch onto me and my movements--even before I broke through my conditioning.  Which, for the record, is no small feat. And yet, I’m expected to believe that you have no idea whatsoever about how Howard Stark is treating his family.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peggy paused and glanced up searchingly, “I’ve had my suspicions.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve had suspicions,” Bucky repeated flatly.  “Did those suspicions include that Tony might feel desperate enough to seek out someone like me to have Howard taken care of so that it would stop?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky was admittedly surprised by the jolt of laughter from the woman and the slight grin that rose following his words.  She shook her head and sighed fondly. “Oh, Tony. Of course he would,” she said before her amusement sobered. “Yes, I had my suspicions about Howard.  I’ve reached out to Maria countless times with no success.  Unfortunately for everyone, Howard has since limited my access to Tony.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You do realize that I don’t have the same reservations about putting a stop to it,” Bucky said plainly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think this is a conversation that requires chairs and drinks, don’t you?” Peggy sighed, leading the way to the kitchen. “What is your current fascination with the Starks, James? You’ve been content to stay on your own for this long, why now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because it’s not the sort of thing I can look the other way on,” Bucky answered. “Because there’s no way in hell that Steve would let this fly and do nothing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, he wouldn’t have, would he,” Peggy said quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t tell me that you’re still looking for him,” Bucky pointed out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s Howard’s pet project and you might recall how he gets when something catches his attention like that,” Peggy frowned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can find him,” Bucky said, feeling tentative and hesitant for the first time in their conversation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you suppose you’re better equipped to find Steve than what Howard and SHIELD have been doing for the past thirty-odd years?” She asked disbelievingly.  Bucky didn’t answer, just met her stare with his own. Peggy considered him for a moment and then nodded, seemingly coming to a conclusion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What will you do when you find him?” Peggy asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bring him home, where he belongs,” Bucky answered easily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will you have an actual ceremony for him?” She pressed with a sad smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No?” she frowned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Peggy,” he sighed, hesitating a moment before divulging the thought process that he’d come to while talking with Tony. “There is a very good chance that Steve’s survived that crash.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She blinked and stared in confusion for a moment. “You’re telling me that Steve Rogers might have somehow survived crashing a plane going nearly top speeds into the Arctic Ocean.  Even if that were the case, James, it’s been thirty years.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” he said, trying to ignore the ache of so many years passing without Steve living them.  The doctors had always speculated, back before the serum, that Steve wouldn’t live past twenty-five.  It hurt to know how right they had turned out to be, despite his death occurring much differently than their predictions. “I can’t much remember what all I told you in those early days.  About me and how I was kept.  Both the Russians and Hydra.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very little,” Peggy said, expression shifting expectantly. “I was given the impression that was a hard line that you wouldn’t divulge.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At the time, you were right,” Bucky nodded. “Once they managed to break me down and through all of their conditioning--that’s still a hard line, before you ask--I was kept in cryo chambers between missions.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They froze you,” Peggy said quietly and Bucky could see the pieces begin to fall into place in her mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They froze me,” Bucky confirmed. “And successfully revived me, sometimes a year or more in between.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So when you say that you’re bringing Steve home,” she said slowly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean it,” Bucky said firmly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peggy was quiet for several moments, using the process of gathering drinks and leading the way back to the couch for added time to consider the conversation.  When they were seated she nodded once. “Tell me your plans, both for dealing with Howard and for recovering Steve,” she said insistently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The two will go hand in hand,” Bucky replied. “Dealing with Stark gives me the opportunity to get a hold of whatever maps he’s been using to try and locate where the plane went down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What makes you so sure that you’ll have better luck than thirty years worth of professionals conducting the search?” She asked shrewdly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because it’s Steve,” Bucky said simply. “No one knows him better than I do.  Add thirty years of narrowing down my search field and it’s a done deal.  One way or another Steve Rogers is gonna be home by the end of the year.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m afraid none of that sounds anything remotely close to a plan,” she pointed out with a smirk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bringing Steve home is second to figuring out what I’m gonna do with Howard,” Bucky admitted. “When his boy willingly seeks out an assassin in order to stop his ma from getting hurt, something ain’t right and it’s gotta change.  We bring Steve back before we take care of that and it’s gonna be on all our heads, I can promise you that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve seemed rather fond of Howard,” Peggy said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was before Howard turned out to be an abusive asshat,” Bucky scoffed. “None of us could do a damn thing to protect Sarah or Steve.  There’s no way in hell Steve’s gonna sit back and watch another kid go through the same hell and not put it to a stop.  And everyone who looked the other way? We’d be just as guilty in his eyes.”  He met her eye steadily and added, “And I agree with him on that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there something you would like to say to me or would you rather continue with your thinly veiled insinuations and accusations?” She asked curtly. “Or, would you actually like for us to come up with a plan to put it to a stop?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Both sound pretty good from where I’m sitting,” Bucky shrugged. “But then again, I’m not the one turning a blind eye.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And here I thought breaking into my home was the stupidest thing you’d done today,” Peggy replied, voice sharp and cool. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What I want is that kid out of danger,” Bucky said in a matching tone. “And that’s gonna happen either way.  I didn’t come here for help, Peggy.  I came to see what you knew.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And how, exactly, do you suppose you’re going to do that, James?” Peggy sighed exasperatedly. “It’s one thing to take down Hydra operatives that you are able to cobble together evidence of their activities.  It’s an entirely different thing to conduct a hit on the co-founder of SHIELD and one the premier scientists the world currently has to offer. You won’t even get in the front door.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Secrets have secrets, Pegs,” Bucky responded evenly. “Howard Stark ain’t any more squeaky clean than the bastards that held me.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are any of us?” She asked with a sad smile. “I understand your anger, believe me, I do. I can get you access to the maps.  Killing Howard will do us very little good at this juncture.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I disagree,” Bucky shrugged.  Before she could speak further, he pressed forward. “But, I’ll settle for getting the boy and his mother out and away from him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kidnapping isn’t an alternative to murder, James,” Peggy huffed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now there’s an idea,” Bucky said thoughtfully, grinning when she glared. “What? You’re the one that suggested it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky had never taken much pride in the things he had done while under HYDRA’s control.  He couldn’t even say that he was especially proud of the many things he’d done since he’d escaped either.  While taking down HYDRA was priority on both a personal and on a global security scale, Bucky didn’t particularly revel in the deaths he dealt.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That wasn’t to say he felt guilt for clearing them off the map with no bars held and no mercy offered.  Three decades lost to torture, brainwashing, and everything else left little room for guilt. At least not where they were concerned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t really care much for the reputation that he’d earned over those three decades either.  Once upon a time, Bucky Barnes hadn’t been the sort of man that everyday people had to fear. He didn’t particularly enjoy that they had every justifiable reason to fear him now.  He knew what he was and so did everyone else.  Even if they weren’t able to tell exactly what it was about him that set their instincts on high alert, even if they had never heard of the Winter Soldier, they still sensed it.  The same voice in their heads that every creature on the face of the earth had, that thing that screamed </span>
  <em>
    <span>danger.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While it was an extremely satisfying feeling to watch HYDRA operatives and former handlers literally wet themselves when they realized who had come knocking, it wasn’t something that he enjoyed over all.  There were several times in the short years that he had been free of HYDRA’s control that he had come to loathe that specifically.  The wary way mothers ushered their kids to their opposite side from him, instinctive, maternal protectiveness. Or the way his eyes automatically tracked the way security personnel, wherever he went, followed him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hated it but had slowly come to accept that it was a part of him now.  Just as surely as grey eyes and metal arm. He didn’t have to like every piece of him but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t still a part of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>HYDRA aside, Bucky hadn’t thought that he would find another situation in which his reputation and whatever it was about his person that warned others of the danger he could be was of benefit.  Until now, he had no reason to believe that watching a man, presumably unaffiliated with Bucky’s former handlers, watching him warily would draw an amused, satisfied smirk.  Nor would he have expected that smirk to unsettle said man even further.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sitting in a comfortable wingback chair opposite Howard Stark, though, very nearly made all of Bucky’s training worth it.  Just to watch the man squirm, likely without fully understanding what it was about </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sergeant Barnes</span>
  </em>
  <span> that left him so entirely uncomfortable. What had him speaking to the point of a senseless rambling monologue just to keep from lapsing into an uncertain silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Howard looked relieved at the interrupting knock on his study door.  Bucky smirked again and used the distraction to lean over the maps that Howard had spread across the desk. At least his senseless rambling had given Bucky some idea of what he was looking at.  The maps were almost entirely unmarked and extremely vague so far as details went. He assumed that was intentional.  If memory served right, Howard was always protective of his work and he had only gotten more so over the years. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky wasn’t sure whether it was the idea of finding Steve or his nervousness around Bucky that had Howard so willing to share the progress of his little pet project.  Maybe some combination of both. Whatever it was, if it brought Steve home, he couldn’t be sorry. Not even a little bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure how much of his own backstory Howard already knew.  How much of it was common knowledge amongst SHIELD.  Not much of it.  Not the important bits. Bucky didn’t bother sharing the same details with Howard that he had with Peggy.  It was safe to assume that if Peggy hadn’t known, Howard likely didn’t either. There was no point in changing that either.  Howard Stark wasn’t going to have anything to do with the recovery anyway which meant that he had no need to know that information.  And, one way or another, Tony would be far, far away from the man long before then, one way or another.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Speaking of Tony.  Wide brown eyes and a messy mop of hair--that must drive a man like Howard crazy--peered around the door when Howard pulled it open.  Tony’s eyes widened and shot up to look at his father, back to where Bucky was seated and then back to his father again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, Tony,” Howard said, smiling widely in a way that clearly unnerved the boy.  Bucky wondered if Tony picked up on the level of sheer relief in Howard’s tone. “Come here, I’d like you to meet an old friend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Friend, huh? Bucky forced back the snort that wanted to escape.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sergeant Barnes, this is my son, Anthony,” Howard introduced, tone uncomfortably formal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey kid,” Bucky greeted, letting the smirk that had been rattling Howard soften into a small smile.  It was intentional when he extended his left hand to greet the boy.  His jacket was over the back of the chair he’d taken up with his glove tucked into the pocket.  Bucky couldn’t help but smirk at the spark of excitement when dark eyes locked onto the gleaming metal hand.  There was a little bit of satisfaction in how it made Howard squirm ever so slightly, too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Tony greeted awkwardly as his small hand closed around Bucky’s.  He shot a hesitant, wary glance up at Howard and then a puzzled one at Bucky. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky straightened fully upright again, curling his fingers around the smaller ones that didn’t seem any more inclined to release him than they had the first night he’d met Tony Stark.  He was perfectly content to allow Tony the simple comfort of holding on, even as he met Howard’s eyes evenly.  Looking up in time to catch the dark look that Howard shot the boy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the moment, he pretended not to notice. Howard didn’t seem to know that he’d already met Tony once before. That was another thing on the list that Bucky wasn’t about to enlighten the man on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not when he now had everything he needed to complete two of the three most important objectives on his list.  The maps on the desk, the information that Howard had shared bolstered by his own deductions--not to mention backdoor access to the official files of the original crash and the ongoing search, for which he will never be less than absolute grateful to Peggy--and Tony still clinging to his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was about damn time he started making good on his promises and checking that list off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>17 December 1981 - Mogul Howard Stark dies in Car Crash, Wife Survives - </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>What’s next for Stark Industries?  Obadiah Stane speaks out on behalf of the family.</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>02 January 1982 - CAPT Steven Rogers Found Alive After 38 Years </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>- WWII Hero comes home, requests privacy to be respected while he adjusts to four decades lost. James Barnes, former POW and friend of Captain Rogers, also found under mysterious circumstances. </span>
  </em>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>25 September 1982 - Pentagon’s Demands for Answers Continue to Go Unanswered - </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>Circumstances surrounding Captain Rogers’ survival and recovery remain a mystery.  Starks, Carters, Rogers, maintain silence in face of the demands. </span>
  </em>
</p><hr/>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>But the reclamation of what he had with Steve and the ever growing fondness in his entire being for Tony Stark, his mother and godmother left a heavy weight in his mind.  A memory, an urge that he couldn’t push away, push down, try as he might.  The scattered remains of Hydra aside, there was one thing left on that mental list he’d been building.  One thing left that he knew he couldn’t put off any longer than he already had. </p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Black Widow Bingo<br/>Square Filled - “I only give second chances to those who are worthy of it”</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first few months had been terrible and wonderful in a twisted up mess of emotions and upheaval.  Tony had reacted about as well as Bucky had expected to Howard’s death.  A combination of relief and grief that the boy had struggled to make sense of. Bucky could still recall the first visit he paid to the Starks following the Winter-Soldier-assisted-crash.  The way that Tony, all awkward knees and elbows, had visibly hesitated before determinedly settling himself onto Bucky’s lap, head coming to rest against Bucky’s right shoulder and hands immediately latching onto his left arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Tony had said, voice a tiny, sad whisper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even years later, that was the only acknowledgement given of what Bucky had done.  The part he had played in sending Howard onto whatever waited on the other side. Bucky had hugged the boy tight. “I got you, kid,” was all he said in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky still had no idea what it was about Tony Stark that had brought out the more protective and nurturing aspects that Bucky had once been sure were long gone. Carved out of him by the many, many mindwipes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bringing Steve home had been every bit the trial that had been promised, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finding the crash site had been the easiest part of the whole ordeal.  Entirely too easy, so far as Bucky was concerned. So much so that Bucky had been immediately suspicious.  If Bucky, using Howard Stark’s maps, had been able to find Steve so easily despite so-called professionals searching for three decades, what had they </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> been looking for? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because it was obvious it hadn’t been Steve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peggy had been surprisingly silent on that front.  Which only served to confirm Bucky’s suspicions.  He wouldn’t ask though.  It didn’t matter.  He’d found Steve.  Howard wasn’t going to be neglecting the search in favor of finding some other lost who-knew-what. Let her keep her secrets, gods knew Bucky still held plenty of his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If the search and recovery had been the easy part, Steve waking up, disoriented and that heartbreakingly desperate look on his face had been the hardest part.  Compounded by the wary, sullen way that Tony had watched but kept intentional distance.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had taken some time, weeks, to get Steve on his feet again.  Not physically, that happened as soon as he was warm enough that only mild shivers hung around.  He had been up and pacing a hole in the floor of the small house that Bucky had purchased--using liberated funds from his prior captors--in order to have a home to bring Steve back to.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The difficulty was in getting Steve to finally believe that it was real.  Not a twisted dream or hallucination.  That Bucky wasn’t another name on the long, long list of soldiers that never made it home.  Neither of them were. Holding tight to hugs, to Bucky’s hands.  Eyes tracking Bucky’s movements just in case it all suddenly disappeared once again. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>goddamn,</span>
  </em>
  <span> if that hadn’t been enough to break what he’d only just started mending of his heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been a delicate balancing act, those first few months following Steve’s recovery. Between carefully, bit by bit, bringing Steve up to speed and keeping steady contact with Tony, ensuring the boy that Bucky wasn’t so wound up in everything else that he was going to be forgotten. Pushed aside. Bucky was, once again, forever grateful for Peggy’s, and surprisingly Maria’s, invaluable assistance with both. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky and Steve had been a frequent presence in the Stark household. Peggy, too, though she still had plenty of her own responsibilities to attend to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The awkward tension hadn’t just broken, it had shattered, once Steve had settled in his own mind enough to have gotten the chance to actually spend time getting to know Tony.  Bucky could see it in Steve’s bright yet tentative grin and in the seemingly uncharacteristic shyness in Tony’s smaller one.  Steve didn’t have a mechanical appendage for the boy to fiddle with but Steve had always been good with kids.  Always did have a soft spot for them, even bigger, wider and more accepting than Bucky’s had ever been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For as wary and reluctant as he had been initially, it hadn’t taken Tony long to return the adoration in equal measure.  And maybe it wasn’t particularly fairplay, maybe it was a little petty, but Bucky hadn’t been able to curb the smugness that he was still, very obviously, Tony’s favorite. If only because, as Tony grew, in both body and frighteningly intelligent mind, he’d kept his early promise and allowed Tony to familiarize himself with the inner workings of his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The terrified, tenuous strain between Steve and Bucky had thawed too.  Desperation and guilt and regret easing and settling into something as old and true as any single truth Bucky had ever known.  Bucky had known early on in his own recovery that he missed Steve.  More than a missing limb.  He had one of those too and he had still missed Steve more.  Though, he hadn’t been able to grasp the true depth of the pain his absence left until it eased. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky had recovered memories of their life before the war eventually.  He’d known the ache of seeing that flash of blond hair and split-lipped grin before he was able to recall who it belonged to and why it hurt so damn bad to remember. Had felt the ghost of bony elbows to his ribs and the press of lips to his that he’d somehow known were stolen in a secret that was only theirs to keep long before he recognized that the name Steve Rogers had meant something to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Having the memories and the ache of loss that never quite settled was something entirely different, worlds away from having Steve hug him tight, curl around, over, and under him at night.  Remembering the ghost of kisses didn’t hold a candle to having the real thing and </span>
  <em>
    <span>knowing</span>
  </em>
  <span> that it was real. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the reclamation of what he had with Steve and the ever growing fondness in his entire being for Tony Stark, his mother and godmother left a heavy weight in his mind.  A memory, an urge that he couldn’t push away, push down, try as he might.  The scattered remains of Hydra aside, there was one thing left on that mental list he’d been building.  One thing left that he knew he couldn’t put off any longer than he already had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s something I need to do,” he told Steve, hesitantly.  It was still so soon, so recent.  Getting him back. Gaining a foothold in reestablishing their lives, decades after they’d both been sure that all was lost. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it hadn’t been.  And Bucky couldn’t bring himself to believe that everything, all those memories that were meant to be wiped that still echoed in his mind, were for nothing.  That he was meant to simply leave everything else as it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve didn’t question it.  Didn’t even look as though he wanted to and maybe that shouldn’t have surprised Bucky as much as it had, that easy acceptance.  They’d always, </span>
  <em>
    <span>always,</span>
  </em>
  <span> accepted each other the way they were.  And they’d both changed but </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> hadn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve had just smiled, small and understanding, and kissed him softly. “What can I do to help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay here,” Bucky said, a little unsteady.  Steve’s eyes narrowed speculatively but the argument Bucky had anticipated didn’t come though it was suggested in the particular raised arch of his brows.  Bucky sighed and shook his head. “Tony won’t take it well if we both up and leave.  Especially ‘cause I can’t really explain it.  Not yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve was silent for a long moment, studying him curiously. “Are you able to explain it to me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I--,” Bucky cut himself off short and then sighed. He forced himself to meet Steve’s eyes and Steve smiled softly in encouragement. “I owe a debt, Stevie. It’s not a pretty one.  But I gotta make it right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Steve said quietly. “Okay, I’ll stay back, sit this one out.  Only on one condition though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that?” Bucky asked, a little amused because of course Steve would put stipulation on his agreement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you’re done doing whatever this is that you need to see though,” Steve started tone low and serious. “When you’re done, you come back here. You come home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t have anywhere else I’d go,” Bucky responded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean it, Bucky,” Steve insisted. “Don’t you dare make me lose you again. Don’t leave me to give Tony answers that I don’t have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t,” Bucky promised. “I’ll come home. But--” Steve’s eyes widened and then narrowed sharply, mouth opening in obvious protest.  Bucky pushed forward before he could be interrupted. “But if this goes the way I intend it to, I won’t be coming home alone, Stevie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve fell silent for a moment and then smiled softly. “I’ll get the spare room set up while you’re gone, at least the basics,” he said finally. “You’ll tell me, after?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I swear,” Bucky agreed. He paused and tilted his head in consideration. “Take some time to brush up on your Russian while I’m gone. You’re gonna want it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve blinked in confusion but nodded in easy agreement. “I can do that,” he shrugged. “Maybe Tony’ll find it interesting and we can work on that together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even better,” Bucky smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slipped out of the house in the early morning hours, meticulously dressed in every piece of his old gear that he still had.  Still kept and maintained.  It suited its purpose. Maybe after this he’d be able to get rid of it with a clearer conscience. Maybe once this was done, he’d be able to let go a little more.  Maybe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exactly forty-six days later, he returned home, once again in the early morning hours.  He hadn’t expected Steve to still be up but it didn’t surprise him either.  Bucky silently pushed through the front door and Steve looked up from his spot on the couch, bright relief evident in his eyes as they quickly scanned over him before zeroing in on the small body asleep in Bucky’s arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve stared for a long moment.  He huffed a quiet chuckle, barely more than rush of air as not to wake her, and stood as silently as Bucky had entered.  Steve nodded and led the way to the bedroom that had been an empty room when Bucky had left.  When Steve pulled back the covers, Bucky carefully lowered the sleeping girl, stepping back to let Steve settle the blanket gently over her. They slipped quietly from the room, leaving the lamp on and the door just slightly ajar behind them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No questions were asked, at least not then.  Steve turned and pulled Bucky into a tight hug as soon as they made it to the living room. “God I missed you,” he breathed, drawing back only just far enough to kiss Bucky soundly and earnestly. For several long, perfect moments there’s nothing more than that. Eventually, Steve broke away after a final, lingering kiss, “Go ‘head and get a shower, Buck.  Get comfortable. Talking can wait a little longer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natalie, or Natasha as she insisted on being called, warmed quickly to Steve.  Far more quickly than any of them had anticipated considering her history. Following him quietly around the house and helping with whatever chores he might be working on.  She didn’t speak much or often, staying concerningly quiet more often than not.  But when she did speak, it was usually just above a whisper and only to Steve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was just as obvious that the tiny girl had Steve wrapped tightly around her little fingers.  Bucky knew instantly that as long as Steve was alive, nothing and no one was going to cause that little girl any more hurt than she had already been dealt.  Not, at least, without dealing with the full force of Steve Rogers’ righteous, protective anger in return. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky had searched for paperwork, records on the girl, as thoroughly as he could with his abilities and his focus on breaking through what conditioning they’d already forced her to endure.  The best he was able to tell, they had all but erased her existence when they’d taken her.  Leaving her with no identity but the one they created for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From his memories, he knew that she had been barely of walking age when he’d been sent to take her.  To make sure she had no tethers, no connections that might compromise her.  But he hadn’t been able to pin down, even in his own mind, exactly how long ago that had been. He was sure that she wasn’t quite Tony’s age, but that still wasn’t much to go on. Still so young, though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he’d done that to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky had passed the information along to Peggy the next time he saw her.  Peggy had taken one look at Natasha and then sent an exasperated glare back to Bucky. “Kidnapping is not an alternative to murder, James,” she sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t an alternative this time,” Bucky shrugged, smirking in a way that he knew told Peggy everything and nothing at all. “I wasn’t about to leave her in their hands.  Not when I’m the one responsible for putting her there in the first place and leaving her with nowhere else to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peggy had studied him intently, in that knowing way she had developed sometime after he’d fallen. “You’re a good man, James Barnes,” she said softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He broke eye contact then, looking past her to where Steve lay stretched out on the living room floor next to Natasha, crayons and coloring books strewn between them. Smiling, small and shy at Steve when he showed her what he’d been coloring. The smile widening into a grin accompanied by a tiny hint of a giggle when Steve pretended to color on her nose with the blue crayon in his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve had carefully combed out her hair that morning. Gently easing the comb through tangles while talking to her in a low, calming voice. Carefully braiding it into bright red pigtails and tying off the braids with a pair of Bucky’s plain black elastics.  She didn’t look like a tiny-but-lethal assassin-in-training she had been, she looked as peacefully happy as a young girl her age ought to.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky looked back to Peggy with a small smile, “Trying to be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peggy smiled sadly but, thankfully changed the subject. “I’ll take care of her paperwork.  She’ll be safe on that end.”  And then she visibility hesitated, looking over her shoulder to Steve and Natasha for a brief moment. “Maria mentioned that she’s extended an invitation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She has,” Bucky said, drawing out the words.  The last time he and Steve had visited, which also happened to be the first time Tony had been able to meet Natasha, Maria had too-casually spoken about the Stark household.  How much available space it had. How welcome they would be, if they chose to accept. How much Tony would love having Bucky and Steve closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Might I suggest you take it?” Peggy said, tone indicating that there was much more that she wasn’t actually saying. “It would be safer that way.  For her and for the both of you.  Stop invasive questions before they gain traction, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky considered the suggestion, eyes narrowed as he attempted to read between them.  He automatically smoothed out his expression, forcing it blank.  An instinctive reaction to the underlying hint of a threat to this family, </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>family. He gave a single nod, “I’ll talk to Steve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” She responded crisply. “Has Tony warmed up to her any?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky smirked before he had truly meant to let the expression show.  Tony had been decidedly unimpressed with the introduction of a new kid that he would be required to share their attention with.  He had been as sullen and distant with Natasha as he’d originally been with Steve.  But the reluctance hadn’t thawed nearly as quickly as it had with Steve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hadn’t helped that Natasha had been equally cautious and uncertain of Tony.  Looking ready to bolt and hide--generally behind Steve, who never could seem to say no to the tiny girl when she reached for him, or lifted easily up into his arms--every time anyone else spoke in her direction.  Bucky had been surprised from the beginning at how quickly Natasha had come to accept the protectiveness and affection from Steve despite being understandably wary of very nearly everyone else.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Including Bucky himself, not that he could blame her for that.  Her whole life up to that point had been geared toward knowing his reputation as the Winter Soldier.  It would take time to change that impression.  He could wait.  Years, if that’s what it took.  She deserved to have her trust earned in her own time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he was sure that hadn’t helped Tony’s slight resentment toward Natasha, especially initially.  Tony had been so starved for attention, maybe especially of the more paternal type, that he had latched quickly onto Bucky and then Steve’s affections.  Bucky imagined the perception that he might be losing that to someone else was near devastating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A little bit,” Bucky answered Peggy’s question.  He was a little proud at being able to help break through the small, lingering standoff between Tony and Natasha.  To be able to help build the foundation for that bridge.  Steve had done well, brushing up and improving on his own language skills while teaching Tony as much as he knew.  They had gently coaxed Natasha into helping Tony learn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Between Bucky, Steve, and Maria there were nearly a dozen languages available to be taught and learned, even discounting English and Russian considering Tony was fluent in one and Natasha the other. And languages, it seemed, was the perfect middle ground to draw the two closer. With the added benefit of getting Natasha more comfortable speaking to people other than just Steve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Telling Tony that he needed to improve on something was a quick way to get Tony to retreat behind hurt and defensiveness.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Offering him something new to learn?  Offering him a chance to be allowed to be the one to </span>
  <em>
    <span>teach</span>
  </em>
  <span> in return?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky didn’t think they could have planned that one better if they had actively tried.  The challenge and excitement of breaking through the language barrier, of improving and strengthening their own skills seemed to be something of a common ground. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Of course, it was when they had all finally begun to find a steady path in this new family dynamic that another piece fell into place.  It might have been a disruption had their family not been essentially built on impossible chaos to begin with.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><span class="u">Tony Stark Bingo</span><br/>Name of Piece: Mission List CH4<br/>Card Number: 4074<br/>Name of Participant: ABrighterDarkness<br/>Square Number: K4 - Next Generation<br/>Rating: T<br/>Pairing: Steve/Bucky, Tony &amp; Bucky &amp; Steve, Tony &amp; Natasha, Tony &amp; Natasha &amp; Clint<br/>Warnings: NA<br/>Summary:<br/>Of course, it was when they had all finally begun to find a steady path in this new family dynamic that another piece fell into place.  It might have been a disruption had their family not been essentially built on impossible chaos to begin with.<br/>Link:</p><p><span class="u">Bucky Barnes Bingo</span><br/>Link:<br/>Title: Mission List CH4<br/>Collaborator(s): ABrighterDarkness<br/>Square (letter, number, and prompt): B5 - Thief<br/>Pairing/Main Ship: Steve/Bucky, Tony &amp; Bucky &amp; Steve, Tony &amp; Natasha, Tony &amp; Natasha &amp; Clint<br/>Rating (Gen, Teen, Mature, Explicit): T<br/>Warnings/Triggers: NA<br/>Summary:<br/>Of course, it was when they had all finally begun to find a steady path in this new family dynamic that another piece fell into place.  It might have been a disruption had their family not been essentially built on impossible chaos to begin with.</p><p><span class="u">Black Widow Bingo</span><br/>Square filled: G3 - Soulmates</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He and Steve had accepted Maria’s invitation to live with them at the Stark Manor a short time later.  They had both been a little reluctant and Natasha hadn’t been particularly pleased about leaving their home either.  But the suggestion that there was some unknown threat potentially headed their way had Bucky insistent. </p><p>It hadn’t taken long for that decision to give way to results, though.  </p><p>Tony and Natasha wound up as two peas in a pod. Fighting viciously one minute only to be piled in the library with one book or another propped between them, whispering about who-knew-what the very next.  </p><p>If Steve wasn’t immediately available, Tony was the first person Natasha went to with very nearly anything.  And more lately, even if Steve <em> was </em> available, Natasha still bolted to Tony first.  In turn, Natasha became the first to see and hear about whatever new ideas and creations Tony had thought up and brought to life. Or when Tony missed his father but felt guilty about it.</p><p>Bucky was certain that he wasn’t meant to know about the latter.</p><p>Natasha liked Maria and clearly adored Peggy.  She was distant but polite whenever Peggy brought her family along with her to visit.</p><p>She had slowly begun to warm up to Bucky too.  </p><p>Of course, it was when they had all finally begun to find a steady path in this new family dynamic that another piece fell into place.  It might have been a disruption had their family not been essentially built on impossible chaos to begin with.</p><p>Steve had gone off to the store.  He was a strange one that actually seemed to enjoy the tedious monotony of running errands, no matter how many times Maria assured him that he didn’t have to.  Though the trip had taken far longer than it ought to have to the point where Bucky had actually begun to grow concerned.</p><p>He had just considered letting the Jarvis’s know that he was going to go see if he could find Steve when he heard the front door open and then close.  And two sets of footsteps heading toward the kitchen.  </p><p>Two?</p><p>Bucky frowned, listening closely and slipped silently after them.  One was definitely Steve.  He would recognize that gait anywhere. The other was lighter, more hesitant and nervous. Bucky didn’t hear Steve’s voice at all.  He followed the quiet din of activity until he could peak into the kitchen.  </p><p>Only to stop still and stare in confusion. </p><p>Steve was there, as expected, though his back was to Bucky. The best Bucky could tell from his vantage point, Steve seemed to be fixing up sandwiches.  Not entirely surprising considering how long he had been gone and Steve wasn’t one to stop and eat while he was out when he knew there was perfectly good food at home.  What was surprising, however, was the boy sitting stiffly at the counter, looking a strange combination of terrified, cautious, and tentatively hopeful.</p><p>Bucky stayed to the shadows for a bit longer, observing. Admittedly curious.  The boy was older than Tony, by at least a few years.  Definitely into his teens. The tall lankiness that had plagued Bucky at that age until dock work filled him out a bit. </p><p>The wary alertness the kid held was familiar though.  Bucky’s attention caught as Steve set a plate of sandwiches onto the counter in front of the boy, whipping his hands clean before motioning toward the plate in a pattern that Bucky had forgotten that he remembered.</p><p>The lack of conversation made a little more sense then.</p><p>Steve looked up and smiled warmly when Bucky stepped further into the kitchen, finally making his presence known. Bucky caught the movement in his peripheral when the boy went rigid at his sudden appearance and automatically relaxed his body language.  </p><p>“Everything okay?” he asked Steve cautiously.</p><p>“Yeah, I’m okay,” Steve nodded with a small smile, mindfully keeping his head angled to keep his face fully visible to where the boy sat. “Sorry, I wasn’t planning to be gone that long. Came across <em> ‘Clark’ </em>while I was in town.”</p><p>“And so you brought him home with you?” Bucky asked dryly.</p><p>Steve faced him fully for a long enough to say quietly, but clearly, “He’s on his own, Buck.”</p><p>“How’d you meet?” Bucky pressed eyes narrowed speculatively.  That quickly changed from speculative to suspicious as a pink flush lit Steve’s ears and climbed the back of his neck and the boy--whose name was undoubtedly not Clark--at the counter started looking especially guilty. “Steve.”</p><p>“He-ah,” Steve huffed a small laugh and shrugged. “Tried pinching my wallet.”</p><p>“You’re telling me that ‘<em> Clark’, </em> here tried to take off with your wallet so you brought him home and fed him?” Bucky asked, brow arched.</p><p>There was a brief hint of sheepishness in Steve’s expression before he smoothed it out and shrugged.  He arched a pointed brow of his own challengingly before launching into his own rebuttal. “Tony tried to hire an assassin--which was you, sweetheart--to kill his dad, Natasha’s been under conditioning since she was a toddler.  I’m the crazy bastard completely won over by all of you.  How, exactly, does taking a wallet in order to eat compare to what our family’s already made up of, Buck?”</p><p>“Steve,” Bucky sighed and ran a hand over his face. </p><p>“Bucky,” Steve returned firmly. “C’mon, you know I’d never bring anyone into this house who was a danger to any of us. You know better than that.”</p><p>“I know it,” Bucky agreed softly, stepping closer to settle a hand against Steve’s low back.  Half-apologetic for the unintended insinuation and half to soothe the sting.  “You get to be the one to explain this to Maria.” Steve nodded in easy agreement and Bucky smirked. “And Tony and Natasha.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know, I will Bucky,” Steve agreed with a groan.  He glanced at the clock and sighed a little miserably. “They’re already down for the night?”</p><p>“I doubt either of them are sleeping yet though,” Bucky shrugged. “You should probably go up and let them know you’re back.”</p><p>“I’ll do that,” Steve nodded, leaning in for a soft kiss and squeezed Bucky’s hip affectionately.  He turned back to the boy and smiled reassuringly before he excused himself from the kitchen.</p><p>Bucky remained quiet for a moment, listening closely to Steve’s retreating footsteps. Then he shifted his attention back to <em> Clark, </em> who had lost whatever semblance of relaxed comfort Steve’s presence had offered and eyed Bucky warily.  Bucky made a point to keep his body language as open and relaxed as he could make it and settled onto a stool on the opposite side of the counter.</p><p>“Whatever else you’ve got going on, you’re safe here. Eat up,” he said calmly, nodding at the plate.  <em> Clark </em> hesitantly dug into the sandwiches, eyes tracking each and every one of Bucky’s slight movements intently. “What’s your actual name, kid?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Clint--not <em> Clark </em>--fit into their mismatched, chaotic household like he’d always been there. Rough housing with Steve, playfully teasing Natasha and Tony, raiding the kitchen at all hours.  Typical teenage boy things, as far as Bucky was concerned. </p><p>Maria had taken the boy to get fitted for hearing aids in addition to Steve’s efforts of ensuring that everyone in the home was at least passingly proficient at not-verbal communication.  Bucky was grateful, once again, that it was a home full of high-achievers with a knack for picking up languages. </p><p>Tony had tentatively asked to see Clint’s new devices.  Dark brows furrowed thoughtfully as Natasha peeked over his shoulder curiously. Bucky could almost see his brain spinning in every possible direction on how to improve them. Bucky gave it two months, tops, before Tony was presenting his own version.</p><p>It turned out that Bucky overshot that guess by about six weeks.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Bucky hadn’t known it was possible for one person to feel so much pride for another.  It didn't seem like it should be something that a mind was capable of producing.  But Tony’s bright-eyed, palpable excitement when he showed them the acceptance letter to MIT, Bucky had learned the possibility first hand.  Steve’s bright grin and the tight, warm hug he’d pulled Tony into put Bucky’s thoughts into actions perfectly.</p><p>Both of them made a point to say the words too though.  </p><p>Steve hugged him even tighter at the sound of muffled sniffles.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Tasha,” Tony grumbled, head falling forward against the closed bedroom door that belonged to Natasha.  Only to nearly stumble forward when the door was suddenly pulled open.</p><p>“What Tony?” Natasha demanded, attempting for haughty but the odd sniffles causing it to fall short. </p><p>Tony frowned and quickly scrambled forward, “You’re crying. Why?”</p><p>“What do you care?” Natasha bit out grumpily.</p><p>Tony’s head tipped to the side in obvious confusion. “What happened? What’s wrong, Natasha?”</p><p>She scowled and wiped at her face with the too-long sleeve of her sweater, pointedly not looking at the boy in front of her.  “Doesn’t matter, Tony. I’m going to bed.”</p><p>Tony caught her carefully by the wrist, wincing when her scowl darkened but stubbornly keeping the hold. “Please?”</p><p>Natasha just glared at him for a long moment and then her shoulders slumped. “You’re leaving.”</p><p>“Just for school,” Tony insisted. “I’ll be back for holidays and stuff.  And it’s not forever.” He sighed when she wrapped her free arm around herself and stared at the floor. “You think my mom or Bucky and Steve would let me just take off forever?”</p><p>“No,” she said in a small voice.</p><p>“They’d come and trick my own bots into dragging me back if I tried,” Tony mused thoughtfully, smiling hesitantly when Natasha snickered softly.</p><p>“The bots <em> do </em>like Bucky,” Natasha agreed with a little smile. </p><p>“It’s the arm,” Tony mock-whispered, feeling a sense of relief and satisfaction when the little smile grew into a full, familiar one.  He hesitated for a moment before tugging the girl into a tight hug, another wash of relief overflowing when she went easily. “You know you can’t get rid of any of us that easy, Tasha.  I-I know you’re not <em> technically </em> my sister but...you are, you know that right?”</p><p>“I know,” she answered softly.</p><p>“Think that it would always be that way, you know?” Tony continued thoughtfully. “Even if Bucky didn’t bring you home when he did. Somehow, we’d all still wind up being this weird family thing.”</p><p>Natasha stilled and pulled slightly away with a small frown. “You think so?” </p><p>“Well, yeah,” Tony shrugged. “It all works too well for it to be anything else.  I mean, it wouldn’t be the same but it would be.  Seems kinda like we’re all supposed to be here, doesn’t it?”</p><p>“Familial soulmates,” Natasha said with a distant smile. “I like that.”</p><p>“See!” Tony grinned. “That means you're stuck with me, even if I’m off at school.”</p><p>Natasha’s smile held for a moment as she nodded and then, to Tony’s horrified confusion, crumpled again. “Da’s going to be leaving soon, too,” she said quietly from where she’d buried her face into Tony’s neck.</p><p>Tony startled a little at that.  Natasha generally referred to everyone by name.  She only used names like ‘Da’ when she was feeling especially raw, and only in reference to Steve. Something she had carried from when Bucky had first brought her home. But Tony didn’t know anything about Steve planning on leaving. Why would Steve leave?  Didn’t he know that Tasha needed him around?  Especially with Tony heading off to school?  She’d been with them for four years but she was still only eleven, at least that’s what Tony’s mom and Aunt Peggy always said.</p><p>“What? What are you talking about?”</p><p>“I heard him and Bucky talking to Aunt Peggy,” Natasha admitted. “She wants him to do missions and stuff again.”</p><p>“He can’t though, can he? He wouldn’t do that,” Tony frowned.</p><p>“He said he’d think about it,” Natasha said in a pointed tone.</p><p>Steve ‘thinking about’ things usually meant he’d already made up his mind but needed to run his decision by Bucky first.  They had both figured out that tell pretty early on, considering “thinking about it” was generally in their favor.  Steve really was a terrible liar, especially when he tried lying to family. </p><p>“That’s only a tell for <em> us </em> though,” Tony pointed out. “Aunt Peggy’s different.”</p><p>Natasha shrugged but Tony knew it wasn’t a strong enough argument to convince her entirely.  He wasn’t sure what would be strong enough of an argument to convince her.  Frankly, Tony wasn’t sure what to make of Steve going back out on missions either. He didn’t like it, not in the least. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Natasha had heard right.  Tony had only been at school for a couple of months when his classmates started discussing the reappearance of a very familiar shield.  He had waited his turn at the phones for nearly an hour to call home.  It took him almost just as long to convince Natasha that he really would be home for Thanksgiving and Christmas.</p><p>She had been highly unimpressed, initially, when he came home with his new friend in tow. </p><p>She’d still given him a tight hug when he’d come home though.  One of those that she’d always attempted, ever since she had gotten comfortable enough with them to initiate contact. Squeezing as tight as she could trying to mimic Steve’s big bear hugs.  Tony loved those hugs but he’d never be the one that broke it to her that <em> no one </em> hugged the way Steve hugged. But, if there was ever a type of hug that Natasha could attempt to imitate, Steve-hugs were definitely the way to go.</p><p>Tony was reminded of how viscerally he had missed those hugs and his family the moment Natasha had stepped aside enough for Steve to scoop him up in exactly that.  Tony hugged back as tightly as he could manage before moving onto his mother and then Bucky.  </p><p>Only after the hugs were finished did he have breath left enough to introduce Jim to his family.  He knew that the introduction was a little awkward, slightly stilted.  A lot nervous. But like everyone else that had entered their home, his mom, Bucky, and Steve had welcomed Jim as though he had always been there. As if he had always been a part of their crazy little family. </p><p>Tony loved them for it.  </p><p>The Rhodes family treated Tony just the same.  </p><p>Tony wondered, if he asked really, really nicely and promised to leave all of the appliances alone until he was <em> sure </em> his fixes would take, if they might be able to have a combined family thing someday.  He would have to ask Steve in a way that would have Steve ‘thinking about it’ and then Steve would help him convince Tony’s mom and Bucky.  </p><p>Natasha came around, too, thankfully.  Tony wasn’t sure what he would have done if Natasha had settled into her decision to dislike Jim. He definitely wasn’t eager to find out either. </p><p>Occasionally, Tony still wondered how his life might be if his father was still in the picture but he was positive <em> that </em> life wouldn’t have been nearly as happy as the one he wound up with.  It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows.  He and Clint and Tasha still argued like any siblings did, even if <em> technically </em> they weren’t.  </p><p>Tony was still very unhappy that Steve was off doing Captain America things again.  Proud and relieved every time he came back home safe.  But Tony didn’t really like he was out inviting danger to begin with.  Tony was just glad for their family, there was no telling what sort of trouble Steve would have been off getting into if he didn’t have them to come home to.  </p><p>All the stories that Bucky and Aunt Peggy had told over the years was enough to make Tony terrified each time he learned that Steve was out again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Come visit me on <a href="https://alwaysabrighterdarkness.tumblr.com"> Tumblr </a> !</p></blockquote></div></div>
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